Gone so fast and now you're left with nothing
by emxy
Summary: Jeremiah has trouble finding another job after getting fired from the GAP and finds himself slipping into a dangerous and addictive new life.
1. Chapter 1

Gone so fast and now you're left with nothing  
>Rating: M for drug use, sex, language, violence and rape. I may add some more nasty surprises, but I will warn you in advance about the bad bits, I promise.<br>Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or any characters and I really shouldn't. Title from "It's not your fault" by Athlete

_So for about a week or two I've been wondering what happened to Jeremiah after he got fired and my brain came up with this little story, which then turned into a long story, or a huge pile of angst as I like to see it._

Life isn't fair. One day your life is normal, you have friends, a job and a roof over your head and the next you've lost everything. Jeremiah couldn't help but hate Blaine. He tried to tell himself that the kid was naïve, that he had no idea what consequences his actions could have but it didn't work. They had coffee together, they had talked about the difficulties of being gay. Blaine knew, he had been beaten up, he had fallen out with his parents, he hid behind his ironic performer-in-a-uniform façade. He knew about Jeremiah's problems, that he was kicked out, that he lost a lot of his friends and was currently residing with an 18 year old rent boy. Yet he thought it was okay to sing a highly inappropriate song at Jeremiah's workplace.

It wasn't all Blaine's fault, he thought. GAP shouldn't have fired him over his sexuality, that was just discrimination. Of course, they made excuses. They blamed the recession and those few times when he had been late or made little mistakes. But he knew what it was about. Amy managed to come in late every day, never do any work and now she had been given the position as junior manager, _his position_.

Jeremiah sighed and turned his attention to the job listings in the local paper. There really wasn't anything going. Of course he'd have to get fired in the middle of a recession. Highly educated people were now fighting over barista jobs at the Lima Bean. Of course, he could never work there anyway. He'd have to see that smug child's face every day as he waltzed in wearing his private school uniform, dragging that ridiculously flamboyant and lovesick friend with him.

Frustrated, Jeremiah threw the paper across the room and stared at it for a second before the front door opened. Simon sauntered in and threw his bag on the floor before launching himself at his temporary roommate, crushing their lips together.

"What are you on?" Jeremiah pushed Simon off him and just stared. He was tall and thin, very feminine with sharp cheekbones and messy black hair. He was absolutely stunning, but his lips were dry and cracked and eyes were darting from side to side, making him look insane. Simon grinned and stared back, not trying to hide his dilated pupils. He took a piece of paper out of his pocket and unfolded it to reveal a white powder.

"You know I don't do drugs," Jeremiah started as Simon dabbed his finger in the powder and lifted it towards his friend's face.

"You haven't really got anything to lose anymore," Simon pointed out and gently lifted Jeremiah's top lip to rub the powder over his gums. "It's pure Columbian cocaine. I had a very wealthy client this afternoon."

Jeremiah winced at the strong taste of chemicals filling his mouth and watched as his roommate dabbed some more cocaine onto his finger and snorted it. Was this really what Simon did most nights? Jeremiah knew he was a prostitute and he knew there were a lot of drugs involved, after hearing all the stories. He couldn't imagine that people would pay a barely legal boy to get high and have sex with them though, it all sounded so different from the world he knew.

All of a sudden the rush hit Jeremiah. His thoughts whizzed faster and then stopped. He felt his mouth go numb and then he was attacked by Simon's lips again, strong and demanding. It was strange, he was aware that he was being kissed but he couldn't physically feel it properly. The only thing he could feel was his pulse speeding up and he wasn't sure if it was from the drugs or from the kiss and then there was a hand in his hair and a body pressed against his and maybe it was a combination of both.

It was… good. He felt attractive, wanted, powerful even. He felt hands all over his body, pulling him closer, removing his clothes. It was his best friend, but did it really matter? The last month had been awful and he needed a little something to take his mind off it. So he didn't hesitate. Not when Simon stood up and took Jeremiah's hand, leading him to the bedroom. Not when he heard the question "how do you want to do this?" whispered in his ear and he certainly didn't hesitate before showing the other boy exactly what he wanted from him.

* * *

><p>A warm, heavy feeling on Jeremiah's chest woke him. His head felt warm and heavy too, one of those dull, throbbing headaches was on its way. His mouth felt dry and now whatever it was started moving, covering his whole torso. He forced his eyes open and was grateful for the thick roman blinds over the window. Bright morning light was the last thing he needed right now. He glanced down and found the source of the weight across his body. Simon.<p>

Shit, they shouldn't have done that. Jeremiah started freaking out as he always did when he lost control of a situation. Simon was his friend, the only person kind enough to put Jeremiah up after his parents kicked him out when he told them he was gay. Friends weren't supposed to get high and sleep with each other. Shit shit shit.

Jeremiah must have thought the last bit out loud because Simon opened his eyes. "Calm down," he muttered. "It didn't mean anything." It didn't calm Jeremiah down though, not one bit. How could Simon be so calm about it? Of course it meant something, it always meant something! Jeremiah had never done anything like this before. Not like he hadn't had sex before, after all, he did have a boyfriend until a few months ago, but this was completely different. This was meant to be a casual encounter, but it didn't feel casual. All he knew about was sex with feelings, he didn't know what would come next, if it would change their relationship, if it would happen again.

Simon must have read Jeremiah's mind. Or his thoughts were written all over him because Simon leaned over and gave him a soft kiss on the lips. "I love you, J, but neither of us needs a boyfriend right now. What we needed last night was a bit of fun and appreciation." He paused for a moment and shot his famous cheeky grin at his best friend. "It was good though."

Jeremiah blushed, but he couldn't help but agree. He had finally let loose and allowed himself to just have fun without thinking of the consequences. Sure, it had been rough and a little sloppy, but it had been spontaneous and still pretty mind-blowing. He really was uptight most of the time, he realised.

A loud knock on the front door shook Jeremiah from his thoughts. He looked over at Simon. Although Jeremiah had been living there for almost two months, it was still supposed to be temporary and he didn't feel quite comfortable opening the door, especially as it could easily be a client. Simon didn't move though.

"It's probably Mark," he explained. "Technically it's his place so he has a key. And if it's anyone else, they can fuck off. I have no meetings or obligations today."

Sure enough, a smart-looking man in his 30's barged into the room just seconds later. Jeremiah had seen him in passing several times, leaving the apartment just as he came home. Simon had explained that he was his pimp or "agent" as he called himself.

"How's my golden boy?" Mark saw Jeremiah in the bed and laughed. "Ah, good to see you still know how to have fun. Most of my boys are having a hard time understanding the difference between business and pleasure these days. I must say, I get happy when I walk in on someone with a person I've never seen before."

Simon sat up in bed and lit a cigarette. "Hey Mark. This is my friend, Jeremiah." Mark raised an eyebrow and pulled out a large wad of cash from the inside pocket of his leather jacket. "Friend? Thank god, I was worried you had got yourself a boyfriend. You did really well this week, you're one of my best earners. I don't want to see you go yet." He handed the money over to Si, who just stuffed it in the pocket of his jeans that were still on the floor. "Don't worry, I'm really not the boyfriend type. I just pretend to be, that's why I'm so good at the job."

Jeremiah was surprised. He had never heard anyone talk so openly about prostitution. Well, Simon did, but he thought it was only him. He had never heard a proper dialogue on the topic, in fact he had hardly heard an open conversation about sex since high school and then gay stuff was definitely out of the question. It was refreshing, different from what he was used to. But that's why Simon was his best friend, he supposed. They could always talk freely about anything, whereas most people had always tried to suppress parts of Jeremiah's personality, especially his sexuality.

Now there was an actual conversation going on right in front of Jeremiah and there he was, losing himself in his own thoughts. He snapped his attention back, just to find Mark's eyes on him, like he was trying to make a big decision.

"You're stunning, did you know that?" Jeremiah choked in surprise and shook his head. No one had complimented his appearance before, he usually just heard that he was clever and had so much potential but even these were followed by expressions of disappointment most of the time.

"Those eyes," Mark continued. "A lot of men would go crazy over them. I'd love to have you join the team, you'd be pretty popular."

Jeremiah was speechless, he wasn't expecting anything like that. But then again, he wasn't expecting to have a conversation with a pimp while lying naked in his best friend's bed. Strange how things turned out, he thought.

"No," Simon answered in Jeremiah's place. "He's a good boy, aren't you, J?" Mark laughed.

"Do you always fall into bed with good boys? Shame though, you could make a fair amount of money. Well I'd better be off." He zipped up his jacket and turned to leave, but stopped before he even made it to the bedroom door. "Hey, let me know if you change your mind. It's not just sex, you know. In fact, I think you'd be more suitable for dates."

"Why did you say that?" Jeremiah asked as soon as he heard the front door close.

"What?" Simon looked surprised. "I didn't think it was your thing. I mean, you freaked out over one night with me, you couldn't cope with a different stranger every night." He continued, pulling on an oversize jumper and a pair of black jeans that were probably supposed to be tight but hung loose on his skinny legs. His nonchalance annoyed Jeremiah.

"That wasn't planned though! I'm a control freak and this would at least be structured, with rules and stuff. You keep telling me how Mark is so good, how he looks after his boys and makes sure they're safe. Besides, I wouldn't do the sex bit." Simon shook his head.

"J, think about this. You are considering prostitution. You were the junior manager of GAP at the North Hills mall. This is a last resort, not a career choice."

Simon put his arm around Jeremiah and pulled him in for a hug.

"You had opportunities," Jeremiah muttered under his breath. Simon snapped his head up, eyes wide.

"Jeremiah, look at me. I'm a drug addict with various mental illnesses. Yes, I'm intelligent, but I sabotage myself in every way possible and truly believe I deserve to be miserable. We're not alike in any way. Sure, I'm a free spirit or whatever you want to call it, but this destroys even _my_ soul, I can't imagine what it would do to yours." Simon took Jeremiah's hand and pulled him up off the bed.

"Come on, let's get dressed and find you a job, I haven't got any clients today anyway. I'll buy you dinner tonight." Jeremiah looked up at his best friend. He felt his eyes fill with tears. "You're so good to me, I'm so sorry. You really don't have to look after me, say the word and I'm gone." Simon shushed him. "You put up with my crazy and remind me that some people are genuine. It's the least I can do. Now stop crying before I drug you again."


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: I realised some readers (if anyone even reads Jeremiah fics) might be expecting smut as I had sex down as a warning in the last chapter, but that seems highly unlikely as I'm still so insecure as a writer. Also I don't know the first thing about that kind of sex, I'm a lesbian. _

"Si, it's been two months. You can't keep paying for me." Jeremiah sighed, sinking down into the couch. Simon sat on the edge of the coffee table with his phone in his hand and just looked at his friend in disbelief.

"Honestly, J, it's no big deal. I'm earning enough to do it. Anyway, you looked after me when I ended up on the streets; it's only fair I pay you back." Jeremiah thought back to when they were 17 and Simon had run away from home. He had cleared out the garden shed and managed to keep his best friend secretly hidden in there for six weeks, sneaking him food and making sure he was never cold. Eventually Simon had found Mark, dropped out of high school and started working. It was strange to think that this was a year ago. So much had happened since; they had been forced to grow up. Their parents had abandoned them, leaving them to facing the world alone.

"I just… I feel like I'm taking advantage of you." It was Simon's turn to sigh now as he turned to stare into Jeremiah's bright blue eyes. "What do you want me to do? Let you starve? Kick you out? Calm down, it's just a pizza." He brought the phone to his ear and ordered a family pizza with pretty much every topping on it. When he was high he'd often go for days without eating, but on the rare occasions he was clean, like now, he could easily eat to make up for the days he didn't. He reeled off the address to the pizza company while studying Jeremiah's face. Simon was good at reading people, he was proud of that, but he could never read that face. Jeremiah was good at showing emotions, but they hardly ever matched what he was actually feeling. So as Jeremiah sat back on the couch looking lost, Simon could only guess that he in fact knew exactly what he was doing and what he was feeling.

"What's up?" he asked, hanging up. Jeremiah moved closer to the coffee table and placed his right hand over Simon's left one, which was resting on his lap.

"I need you to give me Mark's number." Simon flew up, grabbing his hair in frustration and started walking into his room.

"I know what I'm getting myself into but I need to do something," Jeremiah continued, following the dark-haired boy. "I won't have sex; I'll only do the dates." Simon spun around and grabbed his friend's shoulders. "No. Let me keep looking after you, I really don't mind. Please, I don't want you to get into this." Jeremiah stared into the dark brown eyes right by his face. "Stop it. You know as well as I do that I need my own money, my own freedom. It pays well, I'll just save up enough to move somewhere and get a real job."

It made sense to Simon. He knew that no matter how much he told himself that his best friend was different, stronger than him, they were more alike than he liked to think. He had been in the same situation a year earlier and it had taken him a lot less time to fall into the life he lived now. It wasn't like he hated it, not at all. He liked feeling desired by the men he saw, he liked the money and the gifts. It didn't even bother him that he was being used, his whole life had been like that anyway. But it bothered him that the one individual he really looked up to was willing to let himself be used by people because he was in a desperate position. What kind of friend was he if he didn't help someone who really needed it though? He'd still help Jeremiah find a real job, he promised himself and dialled Mark's number before handing the phone over to the wide-eyed blonde with a defeated groan.

* * *

><p>"So Jeremiah, I have to say I'm happy you called. Let's start you off with something easy." Mark was leaning against the kitchen counter looking through his phone. It felt surreal, Jeremiah thought. Just yesterday he had made the call and now here he was, awaiting instructions from his agent. He wondered if Mark had been in this position once, if he had been an escort before starting his own agency. He didn't appear to be all that damaged, he was warm and friendly and seemed to care for his boys.<p>

"Ah, this will do nicely." Mark looked up from his phone to make sure Jeremiah was listening. "Adrian, early 30's. He's got some kind of fundraiser bash tonight, nothing too fancy though, just wants a pretty little thing on his arm." Jeremiah froze up. "Tonight? Isn't that a little short notice?" He asked, panicking. Suddenly, he felt completely unprepared. This was actually going to happen; there was no way he could go back now.

"You're telling me," Mark chuckled darkly. "He called this morning requesting someone. We usually give him Alex, but that's for completely different things. Apparently, he's not good enough to be taken out in public and I completely understand that. Anyway, Adrian's new to the dating side of this business so you two should be alright. You a good first date, charming?" The taller man stepped closer to Jeremiah and inspected him through his designer sunglasses he for some reason refused to take off. He ran his fingers through the younger man's thick blonde hair and nodded. "Yeah, leave it like this," he said as if he had been debating the hair issue out loud rather than in his head.

"Wear something nice, but casual. I'm sure Si will help you." Mark glanced at the watch on his wrist and apparently decided he needed to be somewhere else as he started towards the door. As he reached it, he stopped and turned like he had forgotten something. Jeremiah couldn't help but think that this must be like his signature thing, dropping big news or questions casually while leaving.

"Have you thought of a name?" Jeremiah's head started spinning with names, but none of them seemed to fit. He considered sticking to his real name for about a second before realising that word would probably get around somehow and it was definitely not safe. Mark looked thoughtful.

"Let's go with Jay," he said after a few seconds. "It's neutral and you already respond to it." He nodded. "Yeah, suits you. A car will be here to pick you up at 6.30, make sure you're ready." And with that, Mark vanished through the door and into the crowded street outside.

As soon as he was alone in the apartment again, Jeremiah freaked out completely. It was only two, what the fuck was he supposed to do until 6.30? He tried watching tv, but everything annoyed him. Books were just as bad and there wasn't any music he knew of that could match this mood. Not that he liked music anyway, especially since that little performance that had cost him his normal life. Singers were just show-offs, he decided. Little bitches that couldn't handle their own emotions so they had to throw them in other peoples faces so they wouldn't have to deal with them.

Ok, maybe he could start getting ready. It was way too early, he knew that, but he didn't want to stand there trying to plan an outfit in the last second. He rifled through his closet which seemed to be full of plain jeans and hoodies. Shit. Now his eyes were burning, was he seriously going to start crying now? Jeremiah couldn't even remember the last time he cried, he just got angry these days. He got up and made his way to the bed, but it wasn't comforting in any way. Of course, it was just a spare room, it wasn't his. He needed something that felt like home now.

Jeremiah managed to transport himself to Simon's room, though he wasn't quite sure how. His legs didn't seem to be working and he was breathing so fast and heavy he was sure he was about to die. He buried his face into his best friend's pillow and tried to relax himself by breathing in the familiar smell.

Suddenly a hand was on his shoulder and he started shaking again. Two very thin but strong arms wrapped around him and pulled him in to a safe place.

"I take it you start this evening… It'll be alright J." Simon whispered in his ear. "I can call Mark, tell him you don't want to go through with it. I can take your appointment." Jeremiah shook his head, still hyperventilating. "It's not about tonight, I think… I think everything that has happened these last few years is finally sinking in." He crashed his head against the reassuring shoulder and let himself cry.

"Wait," Simon said softly, getting up to rummage though his bag. He pulled out a bag of small white pills and gently poked one between the other boy's lips. "It's just a little something for anxiety." Jeremiah swallowed it and leaned back against that comforting shoulder, waiting for the medication to work its magic.

If there was one thing Simon knew about, it was anxiety. He knew it better than sex or the effects of drugs. Those two things were only in his life to distract him from his anxiety anyway. Every morning when he saw himself in the mirror, he felt it. Every time he had finished with a client, he felt it. Like his whole life was some hopeless mess and nothing he could do would ever fix anything. It was suffocating, crippling and lonely. So now, when his friend was going through it, he knew what he needed - a little chemical help and someone who understood.

He pressed his nose into the mess of blonde hair and kissed Jeremiah on the head, a little soothing gesture and smiled as the boy lifted his head and gazed at him gratefully.

"Let's find you something to wear," Simon offered with a quick but tight hug.

* * *

><p>It was nothing like Jeremiah had expected. Adrian was charming and very good-looking. He was generous with compliments and affection and made it very easy for Jeremiah to act like his boyfriend. He showed off the blonde to his colleagues and acquaintances and they told a wonderfully romantic story about how they met at a workshop for urban kids.<p>

The feeling was new to Jeremiah and he loved it. He soaked up all the positive energy around him. No one had wanted to be seen out with him before, his previous boyfriend was still way in the closet and no one since had liked him in that way. But here he was, as arm candy to some gorgeous wealthy man at a semi-public event. Adrian worked with a children's charity and had organised the fabulous party which was casual enough to make sure people felt comfortable but with a formal edge for the feeling of importance. Jeremiah smiled as he made his way around the room, answering questions politely as Adrian worked the room in his incredibly charismatic way. It did feel a little uncomfortable at first pretending to be someone else, someone older, with an education and a job, but he let himself enjoy being a completely different person for one night.

The party itself was pretty uneventful, there was dinner, people made speeches and then everyone kind of mingled, trying to squeeze money out of the old rich men who had shown up to keep up the appearance of wanting to make a difference. But the atmosphere was great and Adrian had thrown it all together. Jeremiah wondered to himself why a man like that would turn to an agency to get a date, but he quickly brushed that thought aside, even he knew that you couldn't ask a client that.

Soon enough the event was over and Adrian was walking Jeremiah to the agency car that was waiting for him.

"You're new, aren't you?" he asked quietly, making sure no one could hear what he was saying. Jeremiah just nodded, a little scared he might say something wrong.

"Well, you're great and I'd really love to have you as my date for some more of my upcoming events. I just wanted to make sure you're okay with that too before I make the call to Mark."

"Yes," Jeremiah breathed, smiling at the older man. "I'm fine with that."

"Well then," Adrian replied, opening the car door for his date. "I'll see you next time."

Of course, Jeremiah knew he was incredibly lucky. Not all clients were going to be as kind and attractive and caring as Adrian. But maybe if he had him as a regular, everything would be fine. He couldn't wait to get back to tell Simon about his evening, but realised that he had a late engagement tonight and probably wouldn't be back until Jeremiah was fast asleep. Well he could tell him tomorrow. At least he had someone to tell.


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: I'm so sorry, this chapter is incredibly messy. I couldn't bring myself to write it in a normal state and now I'm incredibly tired. I'll update the next part as soon as possible, it gets easier to write the further I get into the story. _

This new life was exciting. Jeremiah found himself dressing up and going to glamorous parties and fancy dinners all the time. Mark had been right, he was a favourite, men were going mad over his intense blue eyes. He was earning money at last, not as much as Simon would make some nights, but definitely enough to keep him going. Sure, none of his other clients were like Adrian, who he now met once a week for social events, but no one had treated him badly. A lot of his clients were men in their 50s who wanted to show off their latest trophies. At these meetings he had met several other guys from his agency, which they all laughed about if any of them met up outside of work.

Tonight was a strange one though. Both Jeremiah and Simon would be working at the same party, but with different clients. It wasn't meant to happen but Alex had backed out the same morning and Jeremiah had to step in and save the day. So here they were, in front of the same mirror, both aware of the other's occupation but for the first time about to see them at work.

"This is so awkward," Simon complained, pulling on a forest green knitted sweater and black skinny jeans.

"Is that seriously what you wear all the time? I feel like I have a different wardrobe for different clients," Jeremiah groaned, adjusting the collar of his silvery-gray shirt and approving of the way it accentuated his eyes, which were definitely his best features.

"I'm a certain type," Simon answered, spinning around to show off his long, thin body. "I rock the heroin chic look, people request it. You, however, are a classic blonde male model. They can dress you up however they like and you look fantastic. Enjoy that you can pull off any style, it gives you more clients to choose from."

Jeremiah nodded. Being so versatile did have his advantages. He could have his own personal style at home and then dress up into one of his many characters before going out and that way keep himself separated from his work.

"Well, I've got to go and meet my client at home first, but I'll see you at the party… stranger" Simon squeaked happily before bouncing out of the door, obviously trying to pretend that seeing his best friend work as an escort wasn't going to be that bad, even though he had just whinged about the awkwardness minutes before.

Jeremiah just sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. Yep, this was going to be a strange one.

* * *

><p>It wasn't that bad, Jeremiah told himself. He had managed to avoid Simon for most of the actual party, until the end when Juan, Simon's client announced he would be having a small gathering at his place. Jeremiah's client Neil was of course invited and he was quick to accept the offer and stuff a wad of cash into his escort's pocket to pay for the "overtime". Mark had warned him that this sometimes happened and he pretty much had to accept it as Neil was one of their top clients.<p>

So now Jeremiah found himself in a huge apartment trying to keep focused despite music blaring, shots being racked up and cocaine being passed around. Simon's client seemed to be the source of the cocaine and Jeremiah realised that this must be the wealthy regular who gave Simon a free fix once a week.

Jeremiah stared, fascinated, as his friend expertly chopped out a line on the glass coffee table and inhaled it all in one go. He tilted his head back in an expression of complete, relaxed bliss, letting the chemicals enter his bloodstream. After a second he snapped out of it, grinning and letting out a satisfied gasp. Juan whispered something in his ear and Simon pretended to look shocked and hit him playfully while letting out a high-pitched squeak.

His persona was hypnotising. Jeremiah had only ever seen the real Simon, kind but brutally honest, warm and laid back. This person was more like… Well, like that stupid friend of Blaine's. He was touchy, bubbly and feminine and although he held the room's attention, he was completely submissive in a way.

An elbow nudged Jeremiah's ribs gently. He jumped and shot a charming smile as he realised it was only Neil. The older man pointed at a line of cocaine on the table and Jeremiah beamed gratefully. He leaned over and snorted it slowly, in two goes, to make sure he got it all. By the time he lifted his head again, Simon was pinned against the couch, groaning underneath the Columbian drug dealer.

Now it was weird, Jeremiah thought. Neil handed him a bottle of tequila without saying a word, this man really wasn't talkative. Jeremiah took it and poured it down his throat until he felt the burn. He set it down on the table and suddenly Neil had attached himself to his lips. Well, ok. The night couldn't get much weirder.

* * *

><p>Mark was worried. He couldn't believe he had sent Jeremiah out on that kind of job. The parties always got out of hand and he never should have sent such an inexperienced boy. He was so young. Simon wouldn't be looking out for him, by this time he'd be climbing the walls between round one and two with Juan. His phone lit up and started shaking across the table. Reading Jeremiah's name on the screen he snatched the phone up and held it to his ear.<p>

"Hello?"

"It's Jay," the boy slurred, he was obviously drunk and high. In any other situation, Mark would be shouting right now about being sloppy, but with certain clients it was understandable. Maybe if Mark had started a business in another state, say New York, he could pick his clients. Ohio didn't really leave much choice so he couldn't blacklist anyone who paid this well.

"What's up, kid?" he knew very well what was coming and drew in a deep breath, preparing himself to be a bad guy.

"Neil wants to fuck me." Well, that was blunt, Mark thought. He expected Jeremiah to be the kind to sugar coat it a little.

"You got the money?" he hated this part, hated the snapping, the business of it all. Jeremiah muttered a yes, sounding a little confused.

"Then you're his." Mark screwed his eyes shut. He had gotten into this because he wanted to be the agent he wished he had when he was younger. If these boys were going to turn to prostitution anyway, they needed someone to look after them properly. Lately he had gotten better at turning his feelings off though, they had no place in this business. He had managed to recruit new boys when business was slow, so now he had to man up and tell them what their life was going to be like.

"Look," Mark interrupted Jeremiah's confused questions. "You are a whore, ok? You rent yourself out to strangers on a daily basis, did you honestly think it was going to be all fancy dinners and fun parties? You got yourself into this, kid and you'd better man up right now and get back out there. That's one of our best clients and if he wants to fuck you, you're going to let him."

It just gets more difficult, Mark thought as he hung up. He knew he shouldn't have told Jeremiah that he wouldn't have to do the sexual stuff and sure, it had worked out in the beginning. But it couldn't last, it never did.

* * *

><p>"I'll call you a cab," Neil offered, sitting on the side of the bed.<br>"No worries," Jeremiah managed a smile. "It's not too far, I'll walk." The older man took Jeremiah's hand in both of his.  
>"I had a great night," he said.<p>

So that was it. He was now a whore and there was no turning back. Jeremiah walked through the dark night, unaware of the people around him, of the rain falling on him. All he could feel was a kind of emptiness inside him, the drugs leaving his system and a dull pain from being fucked too hard. For some reason he didn't quite understand himself, he turned left into an alleyway, walking right into a guy he recognised from the agency.

"Jeremiah, right?" he asked, staring right through him.  
>"Yeah, you're Toby, aren't you?" The other man nodded and leaned against a wall.<p>

"How do you do it?" Jeremiah sighed, holding his head in his hands. Toby reached into his pocket and brought out a small plastic bag containing some kind of powder. It wasn't white, like cocaine, but the colour wasn't quite determinable in the dark either.

"Sit," he ordered. Jeremiah complied, closing his eyes. When he opened them again, Toby was holding a syringe in front of him.

"Do you want to try it?" Jeremiah nodded. He had nothing to lose now, he figured and held out his left arm, rolling up his sleeve.

It hit him instantly. There was no rush, like with cocaine, but it was numbing like it. No, not like it, there was nothing like this. Nothing mattered, the pain didn't matter, the dirt didn't matter. Toby had vanished but Jeremiah couldn't care about that either. He just sat there in an alley, riding on the soft waves of the drug, letting them carry him further into the comforting darkness.


	4. Author's Note

A/N:

Hi, guys. I sincerely apologise for leaving you guys hanging. Every time I got an alert update while I was gone I felt so bad, I can't even describe it.

So here's the story, I had to go to Italy to look after my aunt who had a big operation and couldn't lift anything heavy for six weeks. Then life happened and I just couldn't find the time or energy to get back into this as the story kept wanting to spin off in different directions. I'll try to finish this off quickly now as I have an audition coming up in three weeks and I desperately need to prepare for it.

Anyway thanks for your patience, your alerts and just, thanks for reading! This is so different from what I usually write. I'm generally rubbish at writing OCs but I'm so emotionally connected to Simon now, it's ridiculous. Anyway, I'll give you one new chapter now and then one more in a few hours to make up for my absence.

I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoy writing it (even though it completely breaks my heart at times)

Emma


	5. Chapter 5

Simon's fingers drummed against the kitchen counter. He couldn't help it, when he got nervous, he had to keep his hands occupied. Sometimes he'd fiddle with pens, taking them apart and putting them back together. On other occasions he'd play with a button or the hem of his shirt. Today his fingers tapped out rhythms on the kitchen counter as he tried to make a decision.

He'd had his suspicions for a couple of weeks but Simon was now convinced that his best friend was a drug addict. The first signs were easy to shake off, losing weight and becoming fazed with life were normal side-effects with the job they had. But when Jeremiah started getting the more hardcore clients, he knew. The only guys who were given them were the ones so numb, so ruined that they didn't care. Simon had gone to Mark when he found out and demanded to know what was going on and his agent had just replied in an ice cold voice that apparently Jeremiah was close with Toby and Ian these days.

He couldn't believe it. Well, he believed that Toby and Ian were the kind to pounce on the new, more innocent boys and turn them into cheap skag whores like them. But he never would've thought that Jeremiah would be so weak and let them destroy him.

So he made a decision, tapping his fingertips against the countertop and gazing out of the window at the gray, rain-marked streets. He was going to help his friend get clean even if it meant giving up his own vices.

* * *

><p>The stairs weren't moving. Why weren't they moving? Jeremiah groaned and hauled himself up the steps into the apartment. They should get an escalator, he thought and made a mental note to find out who to speak to about that. He collapsed against the door and started rummaging through his pockets for the key, but fell backwards as someone opened the door behind him. He looked up and saw Simon staring back, with no expression on his face, no clue as to what he was feeling. No doubt he was disappointed, that's all he seemed to be these days. But he didn't look angry.<p>

"We need to talk." Simon grabbed his roommate's arm and dragged him into the living room, perching him on the armrest of the couch.

"Are you breaking up with me?" Jeremiah slurred, rolling his eyes. "Because I'm sure we're not actually boyfriends. Anyway, I don't mind because I've met someone. And he makes me feel _so_ good." Simon sighed, trying to decide whether to ignore his obviously high friend or indulge his madness.

"By someone, do you mean heroin?" He decided to go for all-out aggressive. Simon had seen people act like this under the influence before, but it had never been aimed directly at him. It scared him a little, but mainly just made him angry. "That stuff doesn't make you happy and you know it," he continued. "I've seen you change, but not for the better. You've become rude and insensitive and make crass jokes about everything. And that's when you do speak. Half the time you're just curled up in your own world, ignoring anything going on around you." Simon seemed to realise how harsh he sounded and took a deep breath, smoothing out his shirt.

Jeremiah closed his eyes for a second but opened them again quickly as he heard a familiar thump. He saw his roommate on his knees in front of him, looking up with pleading eyes.

"If you're going to blow me, get on with it," he blurted out for some reason. That was it, Simon snapped, head spinning with a mixture of rage and confusion.

"See?" He shouted, not even trying to control himself anymore. "This is what I mean! You would never even talk about sex before and now you're just throwing it out there like you don't even care."

"I don't," Jeremiah replied with pure ice in his voice. "Why should I? Everyone just takes it from me. If it doesn't mean anything to them, why should it mean something to me?"

"BECAUSE YOU'RE NOT LIKE THEM!" Simon screamed, right in the other boy's face, unable to hold back and keep the discussion civilized. Maybe this amount of force would make him listen. "You're not like anyone else, you're special, you're the _only one_ I trust. And now… you're not yourself anymore."

Jeremiah fell silent and watched the shaking figure in front of him.  
>"So… if you're not going to blow me, why are you on your knees like that?" Simon reached over to grab his friend's hands.<br>"I'm going to ask you a very serious question and I want you to really think about it." He paused for a second, trying to figure out the best way to phrase it. "I want you to get clean," he said, all in one go. "Please, I'll do it with you, I'll talk to Mark, get you back on the original track. Or I'll help you find a job!"

"Yeah, because that worked out so well last time didn't it?" Jeremiah practically spat out the words. "The last job you got me involved me being fucked by strangers on a regular basis and made me turn to hard drugs to cope. Yeah, you're a fucking brilliant friend" Jeremiah just got up off the sofa and stalked into his room, ignoring the choked sobs coming from Simon and the tears spilling out of his eyes.

The sight of his bedroom sent his mind spinning, bouncing off the now-bare walls. Everything had been removed, there was only a mattress, a pile of blankets and a couple of buckets in the room now. A hand landed on his shoulder but he was too confused to fight it off.

"I wanted to ask you first, it would've been better if you agreed. But J, it's gone too far, honey. I'm sorry." With that, Simon vanished, locking the door behind him and Jeremiah was stuck in a bare room with about 10 minutes until his comedown.

* * *

><p>The waves crashed and rolled all over, throwing Jeremiah's body around like a ragdoll. They were purple, just like the bruises. There must have been bruises all over his body, he felt so beaten, battered, like he had been broken apart and his bones had turned to jelly. He tried to open his eyes, but they wouldn't budge. He tried to crawl into a corner, hoping the rocking wouldn't be as violent, but his limbs wouldn't obey him. He couldn't even scream for help, just gasp for air as his throat emitted some kind of gurgling noise.<p>

Then every now and then, a blur of black and white would appear by his side, hold him steady in the storm and slip him a little pill. He'd hear a whisper of "valium" and then the waves would turn blue and rock him slower and slower until they stopped and then he was alone again in the room.

During these breaks, he'd crawl to a bucket and heave the sea sickness out of his system, hoping that the next storm wouldn't be as rough. He'd wonder how long this had been going on for, it felt like years, but it might have been hours. He had no idea anymore.

Sometimes Simon would come in while everything was calm and feed him soup. Jeremiah would ask him why he left him alone in the storm and he'd hold him close until his friend told him he had to go and kissed him on the forehead, promising he'd be back again before it got too bad.

Jeremiah decided that Simon kept the storm away and healed the bruises that were supposed to be covering his body. The longer he stayed, the safer he felt and the closer he got to reality.

* * *

><p>Golden September light filtered through the blinds, illuminating the two boys cuddled up on the couch. The thinner boy with black, messy hair had his long arms and legs wrapped around the pale blonde who rested his head on his friend's chest. They spoke softly every now and then, commenting on the show they were watching.<p>

"I've missed this," Jeremiah stated, rubbing his thumb in circles on Simon's knee. "Sunday morning tv with you. I'm sorry for screwing up so badly." The other boy shook his head. Simon knew a big part of it was his fault and he had a lump in his throat because of it.

"No, I'm sorry. I should've protected you, I should've seen the signs. I should've stopped that night from happening, stopped any of this from happening." Jeremiah moved up a bit and turned his head in an awkward angle to silence his roommate with a kiss. It was just a short peck on the lips, affection between friends, but it held the answers. It told Simon everything he already knew deep down, that Jeremiah would have pushed through with it anyway, that he wouldn't have accepted any help and that it would never have been any different.

Simon closed his eyes as his friend turned his attention back to the tv. He couldn't figure out if Jeremiah had changed or if it was just his view of him that had changed because his mind wasn't clouded by cocaine or amphetamine these days. He seemed quiet though, reserved. Jeremiah had never been one to share his emotions openly, but lately it seemed like he was trying to hold in a huge secret or hide some big part of his personality. The smiles he flashed were mostly fake and most of his hugs held no emotion anymore.

But that kiss, Simon thought. That was genuine. Maybe he had been imagining it. He reached his hand down to link his fingers with his roommate's and smiled as he felt the other body settle down against his.


End file.
